Warming Heart
by Gratia Astra
Summary: If you're careful, a fire won't burn you. It will keep you warm from the cold. Warren POV, just another Warren-adapts-to-having-friends.


**Summary: If you're careful, a fire won't burn you. It'll keep you warm from the cold. **

**Characters: Centered on Warren, from his POV. **

**Rating: K+ (Just a couple words, nothing bad.)**

**Genre: Friendship**

**Author's Note: I recently started re-reading a lot of fanfiction from the movie Sky High. Warren is my favorite character. So much so I don't really care WHO he's paired with, but I honestly think Will/Layla was meant to be, NOT Warren/Layla. I like reading it, just don't think it could've happened-ANYWAY!  
Thinking back on the movie, I realized something. Warren was all tough and badass, but he never actually TOLD the sidekicks to go away and leave him alone. Almost like he secretly didn't care if they stayed or not. But what really struck me was the idea that Warren, a guy who might burst into flame at a moments notice and burn you, might not know how to handle any kind of physical contact, since he has no experience with it. Other than that, it's just another Warren-adapts-to-having-friends thing. I really hope this turns out well because I'm not going to re-read it a million times before I post it like I usually do.**

* * *

First up, straight up, Warren was NOT used to being touched. At all.

The only person who had ever dared to get close to him before was his mother. She would hug him and kiss him and pet his hair as he fell asleep. But that was a long time ago. Supposedly, his father would do the same. Hug him and kiss him goodnight if it was ever safe enough to visit, but that was even _longer_ ago.

For those who didn't bother checking the facts, they assumed Baron Battle had been a good guy and turned villian somewhere along the way. Or they assumed he'd only pretended to be good long enough to fool the world and then showed his true, evil nature. Except Warren, who knew the truth. Baron Battle had been a villian from day one. But he wasn't evil or terribly cruel. He was simply a man set on changing to world into a place that was better, only under _his_ definition of "better". Baron had never been mean, or meant to hurt his family. Warren's mother had known the risks when she started dating the villian, and then accepted them when she married him. Baron had always cared for his family, still did. So Battle decided one day, to ensure his family's future safety, he would surrender. Of course, he only pretended to try to take over the world, knowing full well the Commander would stop him. He put on a good act, good enough to fool everyone except his wife and his son. Phoenix was defeated, arrested, and sentenced. Peace was safe, from both criminals and heroes. Warren, while not having an easy life, was at least granted the opportunity to choose his own path. And the price: a great loss of time for father and son to know each other. No playing the park, no wrestling in the house, no basketball on the driveway, no embarassing high school moments, and no hugging or shoulder pats or hair tousling.

His father had made a lot of money in his time. Most of it had been through illegal means, so the majority of the fortune was seized once Baron was arrested. But he'd been smart enough to hide some of it away for his family. Warren's mother accepted the money, used it to keep herself and her son going. It hadn't lasted forever though. Thankfully, his mother had kept to a budget all those years, still working and using the money he left them wisely. Now it was gone, but Warren was old enough to work and help his mother so she didn't have to struggle. Between them, they did alright. But with his job and her job and his school, it meant there wasn't a lot of time for hugs or talking.

At work, the others kept a respectful distance. They were talkative and helpful and friendly in their own rough, teasing way. But there were no pats on the shoulder or casual brushes against each other. It had nothing to do with who his father was, and everything to do with his powers. Fire was hot and they knew what he was capable of. It wasn't that they didn't trust him. They simply knew better than to walk along the edge of the cliff. It was safer to stay away from the dragon's mouth. At school, everyone was too afraid to come near him. They ignored him, whispered about him behind his back, and generally tried to avoid coming anywhere near him. A partner in class might as well have been on the other side of the room. Gym or Save the Citizen was pointless because no one ever bothered trying to work _with_ him. No one ever tried to work together. They only used their powers individually and hoped they got through the villians of the day. It had nothing to do with his powers and everything to do with who his father was. A villian was dangerous, evil, underhanded, and cowardly. They didn't trust him.

Warren couldn't win for losing.

Until Layla and her sidekicks came along and promptly turned his predictable world on its head.

At first, it was unexpected. One little conversation at work had lead to an invasion at school. One girl turned into two girls, and then two girls turned into two girls and two boys. He was surrounded. It was hard for him to be surprised, but Warren was under the impression he had the world figured out. No one wanted to be near him, to associate with him, to chance it. Well, he was going to show them. So his whole attitude developed into one of solitude, of keeping them away so it would seem as though it was all his idea. He _wanted_ to be left alone, _he_ didn't want anyone near him, _he_ didn't want to associate with anyone. But now, a group of nerdy sidekicks who should have been running away in fear were sitting next to him without any apparent intention to move. The glowing blond kept brushing his arm without even realizing it. If the orange kid got any closer, he'd practically be on Warren's lap. It was freaking him out. It didn't take him long to catch on, figure out what the plant girl was doing. He focused on the redhead long enough to get a reason, to verify they weren't actually there because they liked him, before he made his escape.

He just didn't know how to handle people like that. They weren't afraid of him, they didn't openly hate him, they were friendly, but they weren't keeping their distance. With no previous experience to draw on, Warren was totally clueless as to how he was supposed to respond to this.

The next day, he was a little better prepared, so it was more unnerving than unexpected. It was still unexpected though because it wasn't Layla who made to sit down at his table first. Hippie was still in line for her lunch when the Popsicle sat down next to him and asked if Warren could help him with a question. To which he replied with a scathing, "Hell no!" Then the purple-haired girl sat down next to him, and Glowstick sat down across from her. By the time Hippie finally made it over, Warren was already trapped by the conversations. Magenta was trying to talk to _him_, Zach was trying to talk to her, and Ethan was trying to talk to Zach. It was like a three-way barrier. No matter which way he turned, there was a sidekick looking up to him, asking him for help on this question, or just wondering out loud if it was a requirement for bad boys to wear leather. Replying only made it worse, Warren found out. It didn't really matter if he was saying yes, because he wasn't. Even if he was saying MY TABLE IS NOT FOR SIDEKICKS in the darkest voice he could manage, they seemed to think he was answering their questions and encouraging them to continue annoying him. And actually giving them the answers they were looking for (the answer to that question is on page 234, yes it is a requirement) didn't make them go away either when he tried that. In fact, they didn't even pause. Ethan immediately started thumbing his book and Magenta laughed because she liked his sense of humor. Zach just started glowing at the sound of Magenta's laughter.

The bombardment lasted almost 15 minutes. His patience last 14, so he got up and left. Except, they followed him. Well technically two of them followed him by the sounds, and one was only heading to the bathroom. Turning his head to glare over his shoulder at the unwanted shadow, Warren was suprised to see that it was the Popsicle. The little geek even had the nerve to trail him all the way outside to the steps, where he had hoped to be left alone. No such luck. Unfortunately, they were outside and Warren couldn't really claim the whole concrete staircase. He'd still try.

Warren turned on his heel, and came face to face with a large pair of glasses. He began throwing a seemingly violent barrage of verbal fireballs at the smaller boy in Mandarin. What he was actually saying, Warren doubted the other kid knew. If Ethan had a translator in his ear, it would've sounded like this.

"For the love of firewood, why the hell am I stuck with you people?! Why won't you just take the hint and stop bothering me? I didn't ask you to drown me in this ridiculousness! I do not need your company! I do not need your emotions and goodwill rubbing off on me! I'm fine, just the way I am with my life right now, thank you very much! I don't need friends, so stop trying to make me into some groupie or whatever it is you are! I sincerely doubt you're the stuff of sidekicks because every other logical, sensible, reasonable, self-preserving sidekick has the intelligence to leave me alone!" Warren made sure to punctuate this little speech with snarls, impressive glares, and bared teeth.

Ethan took a couple of steps back, looking sufficiently fearful. Hoping he'd finally gotten his point across, Warren went back to walking towards the lawn. The Popsicle sidekick stayed where he was. That night, Warren was so tired from work and school he fell asleep quickly. He even managed a smile at the thought that maybe he'd finally have his peace and quiet back tomorrow.

Except Destiny or Fate, or whoever up there was royally screwing his life, hated him. It was still morning when Layla interrupted him about something. It's sudden and she's really just babbling. She stopped as soon as Will and Gwen have passed. She let go when he gave her a reminder that just because he's going along with this doesn't mean she can get away with something like calling him..."cutie".

It just got worse from there. He hadn't sat down for more than a few seconds when they appeared like magicians at his lunch table _again_. It's Zach who sat down first, but Magenta was right behind him. He appeared to start a conversation with the table, because no one was responding to him but it didn't make a difference. The purple-hair was just bobbing up and down as the girl battled her homework. He wanted to throw up his hands, or maybe a few flames. He tried ignoring them, he tried burning them, he tried threatening them, and he even tried hiding from them. (Each one of these tactics failed that morning. Ethan just kept following him. Layla didn't mind her slightly red hand, because he hadn't _really _hurt her. Magenta didn't take him seriously, and Zach just kept finding him. Damn that glowing power.) Warren realized it was hopeless when Layla and Ethan joined the party.

"Why won't you people _go away_?!" Warren demanded in exasperation. There was _not _a hint of desperation in his voice, not a bit.

Layla stopped messing with the small plant hidden in her backpack to stare at him. Magenta didn't stop, but she peeked up at him from across her book. Zach paused to listen when Ethan answered.

"Because you never told us to."

It's so easy, so simple, so _stupid_ that Warren was frozen with shock.

"Excuse me?" The pyro moved his head slowly, dangerously, to glare at the Popsicle. Ethan trembled a little, but didn't back down.

"Yesterday, you said you didn't _need_ our company. You never said you didn't want it. You also said you were _fine_ with your life. You never said you were happy. You've never actually told us to go away. You just growled and walked off. Furthermore, you said we couldn't be sidekicks because no sidekick would be stupid enough to bother you." Ethan said, matching the glare with a steady gaze. It was obvious from his tone that Ethan interpreted that to mean Warren just might have been suggesting they were the stuff of heroes instead.

Warren, the pitiful thing, was blown out of the water by this revelation. First of all, he was quite certain he _did_ tell them to go away. At some point. Hadn't he? And second...

"Wait, you understand Mandarin?!" Warren hissed. He was confused within an inch of his sanity.

"No, but I have a pretty good memory so I translated what I remembered when I got home." Ethan nodded, pleased with himself. He pushed his glasses up unconsciously.

"Seriously Warren, it's not like your reputation is going to be damaged. You can still throw a fireball at anybody you don't like. People aren't going to stop being afraid of you, if that's what you're worried about." Magenta chimed in.

"Yeah, and I mean. You're _Warren Peace_." Zach jumped on the wagon. "Why would you care what anyone thinks if a couple of sidekicks join you? I don't care what anyone thinks of _me_." That much was obvious from day one. He's so open and ridiculously amusing because Zach does what _he _wants and doesn't pay attention to anyone else's criticism. Except maybe Magenta's.

"He has a point. If you really want us gone, all you have to do is say so. We're no match for your powers." Even Layla voiced her opinion.

Now it had gotten to the point where Warren was geniunely speechless. He jumped up and walked away so fast he almost forgot his bag. The others, for the first time in days, seemed to recognize he really _needed_ to be alone. They didn't follow him, for once. Warren managed to find a secluded corner of the library to think the whole deal over.

For the rest of the hour, he considered the matter. He turned it upside down, rolled it over, beat it, and threw it around a little for good measure. Since when does Warren Peace let sidekicks annoy him? Since when does Warren Peace _want_ to have friends? Since when does Warren Peace care what people think of him? Does he really mind them there, ignoring his threats and welcoming him like no one else has ever done before? Does he really want his lonely silence back?

He could always scare them away later. After the dance was over and Stronghold was sufficiently jealous or whatever. Right? _Riiiiiight_.

If the look on his face was any kind of sign, he'd made his decision. That's what the sidekicks must have assumed because they continue to converge on him with a vengeance the minute he returns to the halls of Sky High. Now they don't just follow him with their awed voices and timid glances. Zach actually pats his shoulder as he heads off to class. Magenta kind of affectionately bumps his shoulder with her own instead of saying "See you later" like Ethan does. Layla gives him a half-hug, squeezing his arm before leaving herself. Just like that, he has friends. For the next two days up to the dance, they are everywhere. Any respect for his personal boundaries has totally vanished. They're cautious at first, but they get bolder when his voice fails to fill with venom. They walk close enough for their arms to touch. After a while, he gets used to it and stops pulling away. They throw an arm across his shoulder when he stands still. He stops jumping in astonishment. They lean on his shoulder to read his book. He stops shoving them off. They tug on his jacket to get his attention. He stops ignoring them. They poke him in the back in greeting. He stops snarling. Layla even dares to kiss him on the cheek once. He actually smiles back. For all his half-hearted protests and veiled threats, he's amused by their antics and touched by their easy acceptance of him. For once, someone's not afraid of him. The thought isn't as terrible as he would've guessed. They've won him over.

Then the dance comes and Warren is briefly frightened by the realization that once it's over, they won't be back to irritate him anymore. Layla will have accomplished what she wanted and she'll have no more reason to stay in his company. Without Layla, their vibrant leader, the sidekicks will surely give up on this...whatever it is that drives them to tolerate him. He shakes it off just as fast. It'll be nice to have his table to himself again. The closeness they shared was...pleasant while it lasted, but he expects nothing more from that group. It's only natural.

Well up to the point where Gwen transforms into Royal Pain and starts pacifying everyone at the dance. The none-too bright boy trying to impress the goth-attitude girl was natural. The shy greeting between boy and girl was natural. The clumsy teacher bumbling his way gentley through the awkward situations was natural. Betrayed by the most popular students, not so natural. Trapped by screaming, panicking teenagers as chaos reigned, that wasn't natural. Tasked with finding a way out of the dance by a teacher, that wasn't natural. Knowing the sidekicks that followed him days before were following him now, trusting him to get them out safely? That...was suprisingly natural. Having Mr. Perfect Hero show up? That was pretty natural. Having to fight several villians? Well, that was natural too. Sidekicks saving the school, and by extension the world, not so natural. Superheroes admitting they were wrong, not so natural. Still having sidekicks for friends that knew you better than anyone after everything was said and done? Pleasingly unnatural. Becoming best friends with your dad's enemy's son? Again, suprisingly but nicely, unnatural.

And somewhere along the way, unnatural and natural mixed to the point where it was all just..._normal._

_**TWO MONTHS LATER...**_

He's almost asleep. It's been a long time since he's felt this relaxed. It's because of where he is, who he's with. He used to be so sensitive to physical contact. It would almost be a spark anytime someone touched him, regardless of the intent behind it. It's not like that anymore. It's not rare. It happens all the time. It feels good.

He's surrounded again. And Warren Peace couldn't be happier.

He'd fry anyone that tried to say it out loud of course.

He's on the floor in a tangle of bodies, arms and legs. Will is leaning against the couch, Layla's head on his shoulder. The redhead's legs are stretched alongside Warren's body. Warren himself is resting on Will's lap, and he doesn't feel the least bit awkward. Across his chest, Magenta is deep in slumber. His heartbeat must have been some kind of soothing lullaby because she hadn't lasted the first hour of the movie. Zach has his back against Warren's hip, using Magenta's stomach as a soft pillow. Ethan has managed to fold himself between Layla's ankles and Warren's knees, somehow finding a comfortable position there. At first glance, the six of them are passed out on the living room floor of the Stronghold's home. Pillows have been stuffed in seemingly random places. There's not a blanket in sight, but everyone is obviously plenty warm.

The movie ended some 40 minutes ago, but Warren's not about to move. First of all, he'd disturb the others. Second, Will is also awake, and he's not trying to untangle himself either. Warren can tell because the other hero's chest is the only one not breathing that slow, steady pace of someone dreaming.

There are telltale vibrations in the floor as the Commander himself walks quietly into the room. His eyes are closed, but he can feel the stare of his father's archenemy.

"Will?" The word is spoken so softly the pyro can barely hear it.

"Mmm?" Will responds. He was clearly even closer to sleep, but he's also curious as to what Steve could want.

"Sorry, son. I know you're tired. But I'm curious. I have to ask. How can you just lay there with him like that? His father is a terrible villian. I'm suprised Layla can even trust him. Aren't you afraid he'll burn you, even accidentally?" The question is still low in volume. It's the strained bewilderment that rises.

Warren is suddenly alert, but he hides it well. Truth be told, he's just as mystified as the Commander when it comes to this. He wants to know. He's just never felt it necessary to ask. Something about not looking a gift horse in the mouth. If they're willing to stay, he doesn't want to push his luck. It almost feels like he's betraying their trust when he doubts them. After all this time though, he still doesn't know how they can be so close and not be afraid. Right in front of his is the opportunity to solve the puzzle.

"What do you mean? Warren would never hurt any of us." Will snaps. The boy manages to keep his voice down, lest he accidentally wake his girlfriend. His hand, lax on Warren's shoulder before, now tightens in anger but not enough to bruise. The sharp tone is enough to let on how insulting he thinks the idea is. "I trust him with my life. So do the others. Completely and absolutely, no exceptions, no loopholes."

"Okay, okay. Don't get worked up. You can tell me more about it the morning, alright? Go back to sleep." Steve answers, probably making 'calm down' gestures judging by his voice. Warren can hear the tactical retreat being made.

"Dad?" Will's voice stops the hero before he can get far.

"It's more than that. We all trust him. Yes, Warren can create fire. But the thing about a fire is...if you're careful, you don't have to worry about it burning you. It will keep you warm from the cold. Dad, Warren has a heart as warm and caring and protective as anyone I've ever met, including you. We can't help but be drawn to him." The Stronghold junior whispers.

The Commander doesn't have a reply for that.

Warren doesn't know if Will's being all sentimental and mushy because he's only half-conscious or if he really feels that way, he's just admitting it when he thinks no one else can hear him. It doesn't matter either way. It _is _kind of corny and embarassingly sweet. But Warren feels a fire in his chest like he's never felt before because they _actually_ _like_ him. They trust him. These are his friends. They know who he is and what he can do. They want him around anyway.

Warren feels Steve walking away when Will unexpectedly leans down to whisper in his ear.

"Besides, you are _really_ warm. Like a personal space heater or something." The smirk is unmistakable.

Warren snorts, telling Will he'll smack him for that comment tomorrow. Right now, he's too comfortable to move. If Layla wants to hug him in the morning to warm herself up, that's alright. If Ethan leans on him at the lunch table to ward off the chill of the AC, that's tolerable. He'll allow the sidekicks to warm themselves by the heat of his flames because they're helping him too. Magenta keeps him company in a darker side until Zach comes to chase it away with his unfailingly cheerful brightness. Feeling the younger boy finally settle down, Warren lets sleep claim him and drifts off into warm, unhaunted dreams.


End file.
